


Warmth

by Messier_47



Category: Bleach
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Established Relationship, Gift for the discord, Lazy Sex, M/M, Oral Fixation, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Rimming, Secret Santa, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-10-01 05:45:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17238521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Messier_47/pseuds/Messier_47
Summary: To enjoy life was to enjoy sex; both were warm.





	Warmth

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Steangine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Steangine/gifts).



> Merry Belated Christmas! This is for you @Steangine.
> 
> It's a Secret Santa gift from the discord. Hopeful you like it...

Kurosaki gets like this.

 

Not often. When they’re lying in bed together, skin warm and bodies laden with lazy contentment. There’s nothing that demanded their attention, nothing to be done or needed, and for this rare moment of quiet, they laid together naked and simply existed next to each other.

 

As Grimmjow laid flat on his back, Ichigo was curled unto his side, arm thrown over him, head pillowed by his chest, breathing in slow and deep, warm air teasing out of Kurosaki’s mouth and tickling his chest. He was idly running his fingers through orange hair, the golden afternoon light filtering through the window, and catching Kurosaki’s hair ablaze.

 

It’s times like this that he noticed the little things; the natural highlights and lowlights of Ichigo’s hair, gold and auburn. How many of his freckles overlap each other, fading in and out, and the dark mole at the corner of Kurosaki’s eye. The barely there scar at the bridge of his nose he refused to talk about. It’s ridiculous how much Grimmjow continued to fall, considering how much he’s fallen already.

 

It didn’t matter.

 

What mattered was the here and now, Ichigo mouthing kisses onto his collarbone, the skin damp from humid breath. His fingertips traced patterns onto the edge of his ribs, the action so slow they might not be moving at all but steadily warming the skin underneath.

 

“Yer awake,” Grimmjow said in nothing but a whisper because anything louder was unnecessary. Ichigo traced his collarbone with barely a hint of teeth but licked the poor excuse of a bite after.

 

_ “Hmm,” _ he gave a hum as an answer, moving those lips against his shoulder, fingertips smoothing over his ribs and pressing against his sternum.

 

Grimmjow raised the arm not currently wrapped around Kurosaki to lace their fingers together, the action now instinctive. He turned his head to nuzzle into the crown of Ichigo’s golden head. He asked, “Want to get up?”

 

_ “Mnnh,” _ he denied, pressing himself closer, their intertwined legs sliding underneath the thin, cool sheet over them.

 

“Okay.”

 

Ichigo shifted closer tracing the edge of his jaw with the tip of his nose until he’s leaning  half his body over Grimmjow. Finally, his chocolate eyes opened and though there’s still a glaze of sleepiness within them there’s something undeniable there. The weight of emotion nearly suffocating.

 

The kiss they shared was slow, a soft catch of bottom lip, a hint of tongue pressed to the seam of each other's mouth, the scrape of dry skin adding a tantalizing taste of reality. They are awake, they are alive, and they are together.

 

Ichigo groaned at the press of his lips and Grimmjow broke off their kiss to tilt his head up, the other lavishing kisses down his chin and across his adam’s apple, licking at the tendon at his neck in passing.

 

Kurosaki gets like this.

 

He gets so little peace in life that in the rare moments of quiet, he soaks up the pleasure of the world. Warmth, skin, sunlight, restfulness, the simplest things just fills him to capacity until he’s overflowing with it. Out of his mind with the joy of being here without having to fight, Ichigo like this is one who pours out his pleasure in soft kisses and warm touch. The only thing for Grimmjow to do is to take all that he had to give.

 

Ichigo kissed down his chest, a trail of warmth for Grimmjow to follow. He lingered over the scar that bisects his chest, using teeth to tease the edge as he maneuvered his legs over until Ichigo is in between his thighs. Their clasped hands are twisted awkwardly between them, Ichigo lets go in favor of smoothing a hand down his opposite side.

 

Grimmjow’s hand now free, he tossed his arm behind his head to watch Kurosaki’s progression, his other hand still entangled in orange locks of hair but neither pulling or pushing the other’s head in any direction. Just existing to ground himself in touch alone.

 

When Ichigo’s ready, he kissed down his chest, against the soft skin of his stomach, and meets the empty abyss of Grimmjow’s hollow hole in abated breath. He tastes it, just a little bit, and the feeling of pleasure swoops over Grimmjow in an earth shattering way that he isn’t sure he can survive.

 

“Hey,” he says, tugging at Ichigo’s hair to raise his attention, “Not there.”

 

_Maybe later,_ he doesn’t say. When they’re in the throes of desperate lust, maybe then could he taste and touch the empty expanse of raw skin, nerves, and energy that lingered there like wound waiting to be purged. But now is not the time for such high energy demands.

 

Ichigo understood this, moves along the edge and pressed a kiss upon his hip, almost like an apology or reassurance.

 

And then he’s there, hot breath ghosting over the semi-hard length of Grimmjow, Ichigo’s nose pressed against the start of his happy trail, seemingly satisfied to just scent the musk of pure male there. Grimmjow took an easy breath, keeping his heart rate down despite his excitement, knowing that this wasn’t going to end quickly.

 

One of Ichigo’s arms is under him, hand clasped onto his hip, the other hand holding his thigh, thumb sweeping back and forth over his skin soothingly and Ichigo rests there between his legs, seemingly exhausted from his trip from Grimmjow’s lips down to his cock.

 

Grimmjow doesn’t mind the wait. His fingers trend through soft hair, scraping against the other’s scalp, the heat of the dying sunlight and Ichigo warming his blood but his lust is a distant simmer. Ichigo nuzzled at the base of his cock, his mouth loose and open for his tongue to come out and lay kitten licks over his balls. His thighs are nearly shaking, his toes curl at the edge of the bed, almost at the point of thrusting his hips up but he's just so lethargic, the energy to demand anything right now just not there when Kurosaki is already giving attention to the parts he most needs it.

 

Slow, so goddamn slow, Ichigo finally raises his head and start laving kisses and hot licks across the expanse of his hard length, hot breath adding to the sensation. The edge of dull human teeth scraps over the thick pulsating vein beneath his dick, Ichigo’s tongue finally coming out to torture the gland at the base of his head liberally before sweeping around the bulbous shape like a damn lollipop.

 

Grimmjow gave a moan, low and deep. Ichigo kissed the tip of his cock, licking up the pearls of precum beading there before popping the head past his lips. He lets his drool drip down his mouth and onto the twitching length below him, a hand reaching up to take hold the base as his mouth works slowly down, the rest sinking into the tight, warm, and wet grasp of Ichigo. He can’t take him all, never has, but with him being so warm, relaxed, and almost lazy with how he sucks his dick, Ichigo could take just a little bit more, drool dripping down the creases of his mouth, the slickness falling to the curls and balls beneath. The hand at the base gives a squeeze before fondling the heavy sack at his chin.

 

Grimmjow rolled his shoulders, arching his spine for a good stretch as Ichigo rises and falls again over his dick, the warmth of his mouth delicious and the suction even more so. His tongue drags on the underside, pressing the head against the roof of his mouth. It’s all done so messily, drool coating his dick and balls, and he’s so slow, almost lazy. The sounds coming from him erotic, the suction and slurping the best kind of soundtrack to their desire, just the right tempo to keep their desire warm on the back burner.

 

Ichigo hummed around the length in his mouth, sinking back down again before resting there and oh god _-Ichigo is just laying there, using his mouth to warm his cock_. No suction means that more spit dribbled out the side of his mouth, his hand positively soaked with it as he rubbed against Grimmjow’s taint.

 

Kurosaki gets like this.

 

Lazy and satisfied with himself. He would rest here for a few moments and Grimmjow can do nothing but let him.  No, Grimmjow wanted for Ichigo to do whatever he wants , and if that’s to hold his fat cock in that wet heat, to not move and only breathe past the weight in his mouth then who was he to stop him.

 

Grimmjow tilted his head back, humming in pleasure and enjoying the sensations, his heart rate steadily climbing despite himself. Ichigo gives in for a little suckling here and there, his throat twitching over the head of his cock. The hand that grasped his hip was grounding, thumbnail teasing at the thin skin over a sharp hipbone. His other hand had trailed further back to cut the crease of his knee, palm hot and a little sweaty against the sensitive skin there.

 

They’re just resting, breathing easy, no expectations, and he couldn’t fight the lull of sleepy desire in the air. Grimmjow’s hand still threaded through Ichigo’s hair finally untangled itself to sweep across the soft curve of his ear, to caress the sharp edge of his jawline and to play with the loose stretch of his lips around his dick. His fingers come away wet with saliva and mindlessly, he took his fingers into his own mouth, tasting Ichigo and himself there and bitter.

 

Ichigo moaned, the vibration mind numbingly good, and he raised his head back up with a powerful suck of his dick. the throbbing member was released with a _pop_ , and Kurosaki trailed a line of wet kisses down his thigh until he reached his knee, nipping at the skin there.

 

“Now what do you want?” Grimmjow asked, not expecting an answer. True to form, Ichigo doesn’t give one, the hand under his knee lifting his leg to his chest and twisting his body so that Grimmjow was laying curled at his side. He hovered there, dark eyes seeing something that Grimmjow couldn’t guess, before pressing a kiss onto his hip, trailing down to claim his prize.

 

Grimmjow shuddered, an groan of ecstasy escaping him at the feeling of Kurosaki humid breath washing over his entrance. He was aware enough to take a pillow from under his head and pass it back, the other lifting his hips to cushion the pillow underneath and _-oh that’s nice._

 

Ichigo laved the flat of his tongue across his entrance and Grimmjow purred at the feeling. Sunlight now warmed his back and Ichigo was rhythmic with his tongue, swiping across the tight furl hidden between his ass cheeks. One of Ichigo’s hands was pressed against the small of his back, a weight of hot touch and maybe a bit of possession. The other hand was cupped at the crease of ass and thigh, his thumb dragging the weight of his cheek up to expose him to Ichigo’s onslaught.

 

His tongue dragged over his skin one last time before digging, the tip barely piercing past his rim before retreating to go again. Grimmjow groaned, lust and desire simmering at the pit of his gut but not enough to want more than this. This was good.

 

Kurosaki gets like this.

 

His oral fixation a fucking force of nature, licking and tasting him deep, god he should hate being so vulnerable but there was nothing to fear. Ichigo had already seen him like this, enjoying pleasure freely given just for pleasure’s sake. There was no enemy or wandering eyes to fear getting caught. Grimmjow could fall enraptured and Kurosaki knew it.

 

His tongue fell deeper, just enough to start shoving drool into his tight entrance. Grimmjow gave a whine, wiggling hips at the sensation but calming down when the other petted his spine, the touch a comfort and distraction from that talented tongue. He breathed in deep to calm his excited heart, not ready to give in just yet, wanting to let Kurosaki take his fill before reaching completion.

 

God he was so wet, saliva dripping down his crack and wetting his thighs. Kurosaki’s mouth was slurping at his entrance, nose buried deep and the noise was embarrassing but if his twitching dick told them anything it was that Grimmjow was enthralled. A fingertip teased at his entrance underneath that thrusting tongue and slowly slid in beside the wet muscle.

 

Grimmjow mewled, the growing warmth setting him alight. The lone finger slid in and out of him slow, Ichigo’s tongue doing most of the work of stretching him out and soaking him through. The hot muscle writhed inside him and he couldn’t help but shiver at the sensation.

 

The sun had set and the last few drops of sunlight casted the room in cool colors. Grimmjow gasped into the cooling bed sheets, legs twitching and squirming to the side as Ichigo lazily assaulted his ass with tongue and fingers, a second digit sliding in past the rim to tease open his entrance further. His dick was hard and leaking at his hip, the head dragging across the bed and tortured by neglect.

 

Kurosaki stopped, replacing his tongue with a third finger, Grimmjow moaned when he felt a trail of open mouth kisses spark along his side, tickling his ribs and worshiping his shoulders. The three remaining fingers inside him didn’t move, even though Ichigo was curling around his back, the warmth of the sun now replaced by shared body heat.

 

Kurosaki gets like this.

 

Three fingers inside Grimmjow, his other arm curled around his waist, he pressed him back against his chest until they were flushed together, the touch of so much invigorating after such warm attentions before. Ichigo kissed the nape of his neck, lazy and hot, his heart rate still slow _-the bastard-_ while the other’s heart ran a marathon like a goddamn traitor.

 

And yet despite the ease, Kurosaki’s hot length pressed snugly into the valley of his ass. The fingers inside him remained unmovable but they simply rested for now. They were both too comfortable to get excited, the progression of sex a natural development of both their contented pleasure. To enjoy life was to enjoy sex; both were warm.

 

Grimmjow took a few steadying breathes, turning his head to blindly find Kurosaki’s lips and they shared a kiss that tasted of them. Ichigo’s lips were swollen after so much use, his tongue tasting of sweat, cum, and musk. He didn’t care that Kurosaki had just ate his ass only moments before. All he could think about was how much more skin they could press together.

 

“Come on,” he mumbled against slick lips, “I’m getting cold.”

 

Ichigo pressed kisses and nipped teeth against his shoulder before his fingers began the slow slide in and out of his entrance. Grimmjow whined, toes curling in lazy pleasure, one of his arms reached behind him to grab Kurosaki’s ass to press them closer, the touch eliciting a throat groan in response.

 

The three fingers began scissoring, the through tongue fucking making things slick and easy, fingers reaching deeper until they knocked against his prostate.

 

_“Mmmmh,_ ” Grimmjow moaned, even as Ichigo removed his fingers and a palm began stroking his side. He slowly relaxed, the warmth at his back a soothing presence, touch a comfort. The hand that reached back to grab Kurosaki’s ass let go in favor of twisting around to take the back of his head, fingers treading through orange hair in familiar pathways, pressing his head against the crook of his neck to kiss in tenderness.

 

Kurosaki’s dick pressed against the entrance of his loose hole and as natural as breathing he sank into him. All the air in Grimmjow’s lungs rushed out of him in a heavy breath, a whine escaping him with just how _full_ he felt.

 

It was always like this, the pressure, the weight, the presence of Kurosaki inside him, derailing his soul and throwing him off kilter. The grounding touch of his hands and warmth his only points of focus. Kurosaki didn’t move, content to just stay as a unrelenting force of nature within him. God, it’s so fucking stupid that he’s so poetic about a dick up his ass but _it’s Kurosaki._

 

Slowly, he starts to breathe again and desire, no more a rush than it was a steady rise of the tide, drowns him deeper. Kurosaki touches him, stroking his chest from collarbone to thigh is sweeping motions. The contrast of his heated palm and the cool air causing his nipples to pucker up and Grimmjow whined at the back of his throat. The opposite of Kurosaki’s arm, wrapped loosely around his waist, reached down to cup the softened length that twitched in renewed interest.

 

Ichigo still hasn’t moved. Maybe he won’t. Maybe he’ll keep them like this, tied together and unarguably _here_ in the present. Some part of Grimmjow wants that, another part wants Kurosaki to finally wake up and get to fucking him, but the part of him that wins is the one that says, _‘Breathe and take his warmth.’_

 

So he does.

 

Pressing himself back, he turns his head for a few dozen pecks, nuzzling in lazy contentment, half believing that Kurosaki had slowed time just for them. Despite the near buzz of desire that throbs low in his gut and hips, his thoughts were filtered through sleepy light.

 

Kurosaki’s hand stopped petting him, pressing against his pectoral almost to feel the heavy thrum of a heartbeat under Grimmjow’s skin. His hips pulled back, a slide that barely moved out of him, and then pushed back in. A pathetic excuse of a thrust but enough to get him to moan, his prostate grazed over and over again with a casual carelessness.

 

The weight of Ichigo’s dick inside him was now a presence he couldn’t ignore and Grimmjow squeeze the delicious length around his hot channel, dragging a moan from the other. He was gasping for air, could never have enough and the warm bastard at his back kept kissing and nipping and giving low groans that he could only hear through the vibrations at his neck.

 

Grimmjow’s hand grasped the back of Ichigo’s head, the other clawing at the bed sheets for something more grounding than the gravity of the other. Kurosaki’s hand stroked over his cock in ghosting touches, the other pressing them both closer almost to meld their blood and bone to one.

 

The room was so dark now, moonlight a weak and poor imitation to sunlight that warmed them an hour before but Kurosaki was better. Better than the moon and sun.

 

He twisted his shoulders around to face Ichigo who studied him back as if expecting him. For the first time that night, Grimmjow pressed a hungry, awake, _and alive_ kiss onto the other’s lips, suckling his bottom lip in between his teeth and tempting his tongue into Kurosaki’s mouth to taste the flush of heat there.

 

Ichigo’s hips stuttered just a little faster as his blood awakened under Grimmjow’s ministrations. His hand stroking faster and Grimmjow released a whimper when he came, emptying his seed onto the other's palm easy as desire and lust had sat simmering at the back of his thoughts for so long now that their vengeance be sweet.

 

His hips thrusted a few times more before Grimmjow felt his body shudder behind him and a heat spilled low in his gut and spread. Ichigo moaned in pleasure agony, curling around Grimmjow until every bit of their skin touched, their breathes shared, heartbeats in sync, blood _theirs_ instead of _his-and-his_.

 

Kurosaki gets like this when he’s warm.

**Author's Note:**

> *Author dressed in rags with soot over her nose*
> 
> "Please, Sir, if you could but give a comment to a starving wench."


End file.
